Black Keys (The Colorblind Trilogy #1) (32 page)

“Wait,” I said to the prince once again when we made it to the garden where the opening to the tunnel was. I bent down in front of the bed of red flowers that circled the garden with other yellow ones, then I picked a dozen of the red ones. They weren’t so easy to pick but I managed, all the while feeling the prince’s eyes on me.

When we made it to the door of the tunnel, the prince made me press the numbers again, making sure that I had them memorized. He praised me when he found out that I still remembered them, and then carried me again the same way he’d carried me when we first came.

“I can walk,” I said.

“I know you can,” he replied, but didn’t put me down. “Just relax, Princess.”

I didn’t argue, I just rested the side of my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, relaxing in his arms. Our walk back to the palace was just as silent as the ride back to the stable. The tension between us was so thick you could cut it with a knife, and I didn’t know where we would go from there.

When we made it back to our wing, the first thing I did was call Mona. It was the first time I’d ever done that, and the prince
did
notice it. I was a bit worried that I would be waking her up, but then yesterday I had woken up almost at the same time as now or a bit earlier and she’d said she was already awake because it was time for her to pray or something like that, so I figured she should be awake now as well.

I heard a knock and then Mona came inside, asking if I needed anything. Her smile was smaller than usual, and I felt even worse than I already did.

“This is for you,” I offered her the roses and her eyes widened. “I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier.”

“Oh, Princess Marie,” she said. “You didn’t have to apologize, I was pushy and you didn’t yell at me or anything.”

It was a lie. I
did
yell at her, and it did make her upset, I could see it.

“I’m not above apologizing for my mistakes, Mona,” I told her. The words I just spoke made me pause as I remembered how many times I had said hurtful words to the prince and never apologized to him. I didn’t know why it was so hard for me to do so, nor why I never did it – my own actions were confusing even to
me
.

“Thank you very much, Princess,” she smiled widely, taking the flowers from me. “Is there anything you need? Can I bring you something to eat now?”

I chuckled at her obsession with feeding me and shook my head. “No, thank you. I’ll just take a shower and head to bed. It’s been such a long day.”

“Let me prepare the bath for you, Princess,” she said. Her words were kind of pleading, as if she was afraid I’d refuse. I just smiled and nodded.

When she walked out of the room and not into the bathroom, I figured she went to put the flowers in water or something. Before she came back, the prince spoke, “That was kind of you.” My reply was nothing but a small smile.

I didn’t believe it was kind or anything. It was a must-do, so I did.

“Just pick me something comfortable, please,” I told Mona when she was about to leave the bathroom to get me something to wear. My legs were really dirty, and the wind had managed to blow some soft sand into my hair, so I had to wash both with extra attention.

Mona came back with a set of pink lace panties and a bra, and a pink tank top with spaghetti straps and a little white bird on the left breast. She also brought me white cotton sweatpants with loose legs and the same little bird on the right thigh, but this one was pink. Once again I admired Janna’s taste.

When I came out of the room, the prince was nowhere to be found. I wanted to ask Mona if she knew where he was, but didn’t want to at the same time–I refused to let it show how I was thinking about him.

I went to the dresser that was near the window and sat down on the chair in front of it. Mona started blow drying my hair right away, and I guess I turned my head to the sides several times as I kept looking for the prince around the room because Mona said, “Prince Mazen showered in the guest bathroom, Princess Marie, and he’s offering his prayer at the moment in the living room.”

Oh!

Though I didn’t know why I felt a bit more at ease when I learned where he was, I wanted to let out a snippy comment about how I hadn’t asked her where he was, but then thought better of it. She didn’t deserve to have my anger taken out on her. Again. So instead I said, “He could’ve told me he needed the bathroom first. I didn’t take that long, did I?”

“It’s not like that, Princess,” she said as she moved the brush down my hair. “He didn’t want to bother you, he wanted you to take all the time you needed. He was just afraid he would miss the prayer, is all.”

“How would he miss it?” It was the second time I’d heard the words
‘missing the prayer’
and I didn’t understand what that meant.

“This prayer time ends at sunrise, Princess,” Mona explained, but before I could ask her any further questions, the prince walked into the room, smiling softly when our eyes met. I looked away. When I saw my reflection in the mirror again, I
still
called myself a cheater, because though I looked away and didn’t smile and my acts were cold to him, there was warmth inside of me when I looked at him that I couldn’t deny I was feeling.

“Thank you,” I said politely when Mona was finished with my hair.

“It’s my pleasure, Princess Marie.” She smiled brightly and I smiled in return, getting up when she left and heading to bed.

“Uh, Princess?” the prince called when I reached the side of the bed.

“Yes?” I said without looking, then felt him coming closer.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

“Not now, I want to go to sleep, I’m exhausted,” I replied, reaching for the bed covers and starting to pull them back. I’d only slept for three or four hours in the past day.

“Only for a few minutes.”

“I’m not in the mood for talking,”

“Please, Princess.”

I sighed. I really didn’t want to talk, I just wanted this day to be over already. Still, I went to the living area and sat on the couch, crossing my legs, then my arms in front of my chest.

I wasn’t feeling very comfortable when the prince chose to sit next to me on the couch.

“What happened earlier–”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I interrupted him.

I heard the prince sighing. “I meant the panic attack not the ki–”

“I don’t want to talk about that, either.”

“Princess, please,” he pleaded in a quiet voice. “Nothing works fine when we block things out and shut down. Please, just talk to me, I need to make sure you’re okay.”

My heart hurt and mind fogged with thoughts and memories. “I’m okay,” came out the whispered reply.

There was silence for a minute before the prince spoke again, “Has that happened to you before?”

I didn’t want to reply, but I found myself nodding anyway.

“How long ago?”

“Almost fourteen years.” My throat started closing, and I swallowed a few times to let it go.

There was concern in his voice and a hint of sorrow–which I hated–when he asked, “What prompted it the first time?”

I couldn’t talk about
that
, not at all, and not to
him
of all people. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I shook my head.

“You can tell me anything, Princess. I’m not a bad person, I promise, maybe I can help.”

“No, I can’t tell you anything, I can’t tell you a lot of things. I don’t know you, I shouldn’t be telling you my secrets, and I sure-as-heck shouldn’t have kissed you,” I exclaimed, leaning forward and holding my head in my hands, my frustration with myself taking its toll on me as I started showing how angry and ashamed I was–with myself, that is. That in itself bothered me to no end because I didn’t want to show him my vulnerability any more than I already had.

“But I thought…” the prince started then paused before speaking again. “I thought we said we would try to get to know each other, Princess. Why are you pulling away now? Why are you changing your mind? What happened?”

“You know what happened,” I snapped, head still between my hands.

His sigh was more like a huff this time. “Listen, Princess,” he said, and I didn’t move an inch to let him know that I was listening, “I know this has all started out wrong–
very
wrong–but, maybe, something good could come out of it, just try to see that.”

“Something good like what? We fall in love with each other and then live happily ever after? It’s never going to happen.” I shook my trapped head.

The silence that came after that statement was deafening. My words–for some stupid reason that I didn’t want to admit I knew of–stung as I spoke them, but it had to be said.

“When we kis–”

“Don’t say it! Please.” Speaking of it,
hearing
of it, was almost as hard as remembering it. “Let’s just pretend it never happened, okay?”

“You want to pretend it never happened?” His voice was low and his tone was sad.

“Yes.” Pretending was the only thing I would ever be able to do, but between me and myself, I knew I would
never
forget it had happened.

“But as far as I remember–...before that, it wasn’t so hard for you to look me in the eyes, and you didn’t flinch away every time I touched your hand.”

I squeezed my already-closed eyes and laid my head back, resting it on the back of the couch. The war inside of me…I just…too much!

“We can be friends, you know?” he whispered.

“I can’t be friends with you,” I whispered back, my voice shaky and newborn tears stinging my eyes.

“Why not?” the same low voice and the same sad tone.

“I can’t be friends with a Muslim,” I stated. The words might have hurt me the same way I knew they were hurting him.

I could only imagine what he would think of me after that. I could only feel sad for myself, for my inability to open up to him or accept him as a friend, but it was
so
hard for me. I couldn’t just let go of...everything. Not after what had happened to me before because of...
them
.

No words were spoken after that, and I didn’t remember exactly what happened, but I knew that I cried, and I knew my heart was aching. Maybe I dozed off or something after a while, because the prince carried me bridal style once again, and I remembered him placing me on the bed then pulling the covers over me. He whispered a few words that–though they were in my language–I couldn’t understand, or find it in me to ask him what he meant by them. His voice wasn’t as sad as it was pained when he spoke while moving locks of hair out of my face and behind my ear.

“May you find the black keys, Troubled Princess.”